tus of my interview with Bernhardt, not
mentioning the five hundred, of course.

He laughed. "He's no worse than the rest of us used to be," he said. "I
did exactly like him, and father and uncle and brothers and cousins,
ditto. Behold--your husband-locksmith! Max spent all his time reading
the Lives of the Popes. That made him the dried-up mummy he is. But,
believe me, I gave the girls many a treat. All the money I could beg,
borrow or steal went for girls."

Which explains Frederick Augustus's bedroom manners--sometime
transplanted to the parlor.

* * * * *

DRESDEN, _January 1, 1897_.

I gave Saxony a third prince on December 9, and really I wasn't quite in
condition to be scolded at today's family dinner. But since, with three
boys growing up, the succession is more than guaranteed, the season for
insults is again open.

His Majesty, our most gracious, sublime, etc., sovereign, sulks.
Consequently the family looks glum, down in the mouth, utterly unhappy.

Max gets up to make a speech and one could fairly see the lies wriggle
out of his mouth full of defective teeth: exemplary family life;
traditional friendship of all members for each other; perfect unity; the
King and all the princes brave as lions; the Queen and all the
princesses paragons of virtue. And the fatherly love with which the King
embraces us all; his more than royal generosity; his mildness, his
Christian virtues!

The Queen is a goose. Max's lying commonplaces make her forget her many
years of misery spent at this court, and she grows as sentimental as a
kitten. Fat Mathilda, Isabelle and Johann George applaud Max despite
their better understanding, and now the King rises to make his usual New
Year's address.

The gist of his long-winded remarks is this: "I am the lord, your
master, and I will see to it that you--wife, brother, nephews and
nieces--will dance as I whistle.

"For obedience to the King is the highest law," he paraphrases
Wilhelm,--"strictest, unconditional obedience" (and he gave me a
poisoned look) "and let no one forget it, no one." With that he beat the
table with his clenched fist, and the whole assemblage turns an accusing
eye on me.

* * * * *

DRESDEN, _April 6, 1897_.

They have driven the late Duke of Saxony's wife and children from house
and home--put her on the high-road, piling her personal belongings,
trunks, wardrobe and knick-knacks ou